Mommy Loves Me This I Know

Deep in conversation, they huddle over Legos in every shape, size, and color. I ask what they’re building. “A house boat!” he answers with pure enthusiasm.

It makes sense now. His orange and black speedboat has been transformed into a home. She’s the mom and he’s the dad, I gather. Adding a pink Lego, she leans back to admire her work. “I’m making it beautiful, Mom,” she tells me, beaming.

He says they need “shooters,” (for protection, I assume). He makes blasting sounds as he eyes up his imaginary target. Next, he snaps wings in place on either side. He is ready for adventure.  She grabs clusters of flowers, a cat, two dogs, and a horse. “We can’t leave them behind,” she tells her brother.

What’s important to each is plain as day. He values adventure; she values beauty. She nurtures; he defends. She protects with her love, and he protects with his strength.

Moses’ blessing over the twelve tribes of Israel is found in Deuteronomy chapter 33. Benjamin was Jacob’s youngest son, Israel’s baby. This verse speaks so tenderly about the heart of God and has become my own security blanket.

About Benjamin he said: “Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.” Deuteronomy 33:12 (NIV)

The shoulders, in one context, refer to the boundaries of the tribe of Benjamin. The temple, where the Lord would reside, was to be built within its borders. God was intentional about His dwelling place. It was constructed according to meticulous detail, right down to the stones etched with beautiful palms and flowers in full bloom. And now, because of Jesus, there’s a more permanent home between my two shoulders, right here in my heart. And there’s peace in knowing that God’s Presence is the only protection I need.

Strong shoulders bear heavy loads, and it’s God who protects me from hauling around my own burdens. Jesus carries what I can’t, and His strength shields me from the weight of my failure, my sin, and my weakness. God is strong and powerful, fully masculine. Yet God is also relational, compassionate, and every good thing we long for in a mother.

Another translation of Deuteronomy 33:12 furthers illustrates the heart of God. Instead of using the image of shoulders, it reads like this: “He protects him all the time, and the Lord places him on his chest.” (NET)

It was just five months ago that they placed my baby girl- hot pink mess of blessing- right on my chest just seconds after she was born. My whole body shook with joy when I saw her tiny frame and heard her scream with all her might. When I nursed her for the first time, I fell in love. I sang to her the way God sings over me.

Yet, even in my arms, I can’t protect her. Not fully anyway.  I couldn’t guarantee her safety while she grew inside me, and I’ll fail to guard her, as she grows right before my eyes.  It will break my heart when I come face to face with my inability to truly protect the way my love tells me I must.  But God surrounds her, and He covers us both. God will never leave, and He will never fail. This, I know.

My boy’s been singing this new song he learned at school. It’s sung to the tune of “Jesus Loves Me,” his favorite bedtime song. It’s simple and it’s sweet and it says a whole lot about the One who displays His love within the boundaries of family.

Mommy loves me this I know

For she always tells me so

She holds me when I’m scared or sad

She understands me when I’m mad

Yes, Mommy love me

Yes, Mommy loves me

Yes, Mommy loves me

She always tells me so

Both maternal and paternal, God is the perfect parent who nurtures and protects and understands. He binds beauty, adventure, mystery and strength together into this solid, steady cord of love that pulls us close to His heart. We are God’s beloved children, held safe and secure inside arms that will never let go.

Happy Mother’s Day!

How To Be Content in Your Season

They grumbled about not getting dessert. No appreciation for the meal they’d just been given. Something inside me imploded as I witnessed crossed arms and pouting lips.

“Why are they being so ungrateful?” I demanded.

My husband shrugged as he handed the waiter his credit card. I couldn’t believe their response to our family dinner outing. It wasn’t until the next day that my own discontentment became apparent. My reaction the night before had been evidence of an inner battle raging.

Aware that my frustration was related somehow to my current stage of life with a newborn, I started to pour out my heart to God. It didn’t take long for me to sense His voice, gentle and straight to the point.

Know your season, He whispered.

Afraid of missing out, I realized that I was.  I was missing out on the blessings right in front of me… in this season.

My son has always had original ideas about his wardrobe, and for some reason, not only does he love to choose accessories that do not coordinate, he is also bent on dressing out of season. One day I surrendered and let him go out to play wearing shorts, a winter vest, sunglasses and cowboy boots.  I snapped a picture because he looked incredibly adorable but completely ridiculous.

I have no idea whether it was fall or summer or spring, but clearly he was suffering from seasonal confusion. I’ve been trying to embrace more than one season, and I’m doing a horrible job. I’m sure I look ridiculous, too.

Even the stork in the sky knows her appointed seasons, and the dove, the swift and the thrush observe the time of their migration. But my people do not know the requirements of the Lord.  Jeremiah 8:7 (NIV)

Jeremiah was so fed up with the people of Judah for not recognizing their need to turn back to God.  They were stuck in a season of rebellion.  Even the birds know their season, so why is this so difficult for us?

Jesus talked about the birds, too. He said, “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26) 

Jesus was saying, "It's not about which season you're in; it's about how much I value you, how much I love you. And because I love you I will provide for you in this season."

Maybe way down underneath all the discontent I don’t really doubt His provision, but I doubt His love.

Knowing my season is recognizing its beauty.

Knowing my season is embracing its inconveniences.

Knowing my season is releasing what doesn’t fit.

Knowing my season is being present within its challenges.

Knowing my season is having a heart of gratitude.

Knowing my season is trusting that Jesus’ love remains constant even as my seasons change.

Rolling Stones

He doesn’t know what he believes anymore. All he knows is he’s so sick of feeling numb.  He’s tried just about everything, but nothing seems to move him. His heart feels broken somehow. He knows there’s something missing.  Nothing thrills him, not for long anyway. Nothing fills him.  Slowly, over time, indifference settles in and his heart turns to stone.

She’s convinced that nobody knows because no one can see what’s hidden. The fear that she doesn’t quite measure up paralyzes her. She can’t ever remember feeling wanted or loved or really accepted, so she plasters on a smile to cover it up and soon, her entire identity is concealed by this mask of stone.

He’s not sure how it got so high, but it’s been years now and he can’t even see over it anymore. He is certain it’s impenetrable.  The anger-turned-bitterness keeps him from moving around it. He’s stuck. He doesn’t remember how he got here or how this thing came between them, but he stares at it every single day as hopelessness sinks down in between the cracks. He lives here and is convinced he’ll die here behind this wall of stone.

Who will roll away the stone?

As they carried the perfumes and spices they had prepared for Jesus’ body, this is what the women discussed.  I wonder what they were feeling as they gathered together before the sun peeked over the horizon. In the quiet stillness, did grief cover all other emotions like a heavy cloak? Was there hope mixed with fear as they hurried to the place where they saw Jesus laid? Or was the discouragement thick like fog in that early morning hour? We only get a hint, one question from their conversation.

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?” Mark 16:1-3 (NIV)

They weren’t strong enough and the disciples certainly weren’t brave enough. The guards were stationed in front of the tomb, but it would have taken at least twenty men, more than an entire Roman guard to budge that rock. Joseph was the rich man who owned the tomb. After laying Jesus’ body inside, he rolled the stone in front of the entrance.  It required little effort to push the stone down the incline, but it was another feat entirely to remove it once it was locked in place. Pilate had ordered the soldiers to seal the stone, making it nearly impossible to move.

Who will roll away the stone?

They were not expecting to see a risen Jesus; they were expecting a dead body and an immovable stone. Yet the stone was rolled back and Jesus was alive.  The stone wasn’t removed so He could get out; Jesus didn’t need an exit strategy. That stone was the very first witness of the good news. All who bent down to look inside the tomb could see the evidence of God’s promise. When the Pharisees had told Jesus to silence His disciples, Jesus had replied, “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” (See Luke 19:40)

God’s message is one of redemption and restoration.  Jesus came to revive and transform all things- our relationship with Him, our relationship with ourselves, and our relationships with each other. Only God has the power to go straight into the caves that hold broken hearts, dead relationships, and tarnished dreams and raise each one to life.  And when He does, stones will roll. 

The angel asked the women, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” (See Luke 24:5) He knew they weren’t looking for the living.  They were hauling perfume and spices to anoint a dead body, not a living one. And this makes me wonder, how many times do I visit my own tomb, satisfied just to throw some fragrance on the stench of what’s died rather than believe God can transform it? I settle for a watered-down version of this good news when I try to cover for Jesus and make excuses for why things seem so bleak. I forget so quickly that He died so that my hidden dead things could be redeemed, raised up, and made new. 

The friendship that ended in betrayal.

The marriage gone cold.

The dream that’s impossible and incredibly unlikely.

The hope that’s been lost and the joy that’s been stolen.

The heart that no longer believes.

His love reaches there.

Whether it’s a heart of stone, hardened by apathy, a mask that covers up who God says we are, or a wall that barricades us in like prisoners, rolling stones is His business. He is the only One who can handle any stone. And when those stones roll, others will look into the place that once held death with wonder and amazement and maybe a little fear because Jesus is alive.

There is nothing He can’t restore. No relationship, no heart, no dream, no failure. Nothing.

May God roll away what keeps people from seeing Jesus in our lives, and may we be ever aware of the Living One who makes all things new.

He is risen.